Pussy Riot arrives in Chicago armed with political pop — and balaclavas

Part pop show, performance art exhibition and — to the dismay of one, fairly-quickly ejected heckler — political rally, the Russian group Pussy Riot played Chicago’s Subterranean club Tuesday night on its very first North American tour.

The act still has two more sold-out shows to play before leaving Chicago (another at Subterranean Wednesday night, followed by Beat Kitchen on Thursday), but those not in attendance for night one’s festivities may want to brush up on the group’s musical path since it began making headlines in 2012.

That year, Pussy Riot was arrested inside Moscow’s Cathedral of Christ the Savior during a guerrilla performance of a “punk prayer” at the altar. Members said their protest was directed at the Orthodox Church leaders’ support for Russian leader Vladimir Putin during his election campaign. In March, three of them were convicted and later charged with “hooliganism motivated by religious hatred.”

The trial gained attention and criticism, particularly in the West — where the arrested Pussy Riot members — Nadezhda Tolokonnikova, Maria Alyokhina and Yekaterina Samutsevich — quickly became young, international feminist warriors within the largely anonymous outfit. After 21 months in prison, Tolokonnikova and Alyokhina were released (Samutsevich’s sentence was suspended) and Pussy Riot’s wave of revolution was traded in for some shiny, new distraction in the U.S.

Fast forward to 2018, where maybe the idea of American youth celebrating Russian political voices feels a bit … tense. But Pussy Riot’s politics and values have remained opposite those of Putin, and it was the group’s spirit of inclusivity that took center stage. Apart from musical guests, Nikki Lynette and Dorian Electra, folks representing political organizations Reclaim Chicago and Democratic Socialists of America gave speeches on stage to call on the crowd to effect lasting policy change. Even a progressive candidate for Illinois governor, Daniel Biss, made an appearance.

But no one was really there for any of that, though they should’ve expected it. Folks packed in because they wanted to see what Pussy Riot — a hyped punk act known for having four to 11 members at a time and high energy, disruptive public displays — would do on stage.

This year’s Pussy Riot is all beats and bass, led by Tolokonnikova and new, balaclava-clad collaborators.

“Honestly it feels like a nightmare in Russia,” she said, taking the stage. “Get out and vote. You have freedoms and you’ve got to protect them.”

Opening with the hip-hop influenced “Chaika,” Tolokonnikova rapped and bobbed back and forth across the stage, kept mostly in the dark as “Star Wars”-like opening credits ran up a small projection screen. Another member stood to the right to serve as DJ and provide the backing track. That song, along with a few early others sang in Russian, were lost on the crowd — the excitement quickly wearing off for some folks choosing to leave just three or four songs into the nearly hourlong set.

Not that the avant-garde pop wasn’t good. “Police State,” released on the one-year anniversary of President Donald Trump’s election, sounds like a Charli XCX b-side. On “Make America Great Again,” a 2016 release explicitly condemning Trumpism and American nationalism, Tolokonnikova whispers along a simple acoustic riff, punctuated by snapping, electronic drums and distortions.

“Let other people in / Listen to your women / Stop killing black children / Make America Great Again,” the crowd sang along.

It almost felt like subliminal messaging, pop music propaganda in the name of justice and equality — only marred by Subterranean’s sight lines as accompanying videos and other statement-making visual aids weren’t very legible unless you were directly in front of them, and sometimes uncomfortable amounts of reverberation drowned out Tolokonnikova’s vocals.

Whether Pussy Riot’s move from noisy punks to its current electro-pop experiment is simply based on its new members and/or tastes, or a way to acknowledge that the most potent form of protest music in 2018 is much more influenced by rap than rock, the act’s first-ever Chicago appearance drew the attention it needed to keep its rallying cry alive for another day.